


Tagelied

by shadowtraveled (meteorfest)



Category: Percy Jackson and the Olympians & Related Fandoms - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fantasy, F/F, F/M, M/M, Multi
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-07-20
Updated: 2014-08-03
Packaged: 2018-02-09 17:25:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 3
Words: 15,440
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1991439
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/meteorfest/pseuds/shadowtraveled
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Twenty six years ago, the children of the cruel king, Kronos, overthrew and exiled their father, then divided his kingdom amongst themselves, each of them becoming the king or queen of their respective section of the kingdom. Panhellas, as the Six Kingdoms became collectively known as, came to know peace under the combined rule of the siblings.</p><p>Now, Poseidon's son, Perseus – known fondly as Percy – is the Crown Prince, set to inherit his father's kingdom. He has his duties, his training, and his schooling to deal with, on top of which, he's hiding a secret relationship with the captain of the guard, Luke. It's enough to drive a young Prince insane! Upon his sixteenth birthday, a prophecy is spoken, declaring the return of the dethroned king and the betrayal of someone Percy calls a friend. To make matters worse, his father has disappeared and there are reports from the other kingdoms that the other rulers have gone missing. Faced with a suddenly dark future, Percy has to gather his courage and his friends to protect the kingdoms from the threat of Kronos. All the while, the prophecy's words, “you shall be betrayed by one who calls you a friend” echoes in his mind.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This was originally going to be my fanfic for the Riptide PJO Big Bang, but I wound up having to drop out because of time constraints and life issues, so I'm now writing it on my own time. As of this posting, I have three chapters complete and ready for posting and will be posting once a week while I work on the next chapters. 
> 
> Tagelied is planned as a part one of a trilogy and I'm making no promises for how long it will take for this story to be complete.
> 
> The main pairing of this story is Luke/Percy and will eventually become Luke/Percy/Nico. Other pairings are secondary, though will have plenty of spotlight as the story progresses. As it stands now, the pairings listed in the tags are the ones that will have the most spotlight within this fanfiction, although there will be others.
> 
> *** * UPDATE - This fanfiction is currently on HIATUS while I rework and rewrite it. Please bear with me! * ***

Being the Crown Prince of Asphaleios didn't excuse Perseus from going to school. In fact, his father, King Poseidon, insisted on sending both of his sons to school at Hemitheos Academy, conveniently located in the Asphaleios capital city of Aegaeon, from where Poseidon ruled his kingdom. Perseus, known by his friends as simply Percy, took classes with children of the noble houses of Panhellas, the country divided into six kingdoms, one of which Percy's father ruled. Amongst his classmates was one of his best friends, Annabeth, daughter of Lady Athena of Erganê.

Annabeth often helped Percy with his studies and he was always grateful for how she always seemed to have her mind firmly wrapped around the subjects Chiron, their professor, taught. During lectures, such as they were in now, Percy could always count on Annabeth taking the clearest notes that she would lend him later for his own review. Her quill was quick and she caught much more than Percy did, jotting it down whether it seemed important or not. Occasionally, her notes would be the only thing between Percy and a failing review.

“As many of you know, Panhellas was simply known as Hellas, not twenty years ago,” Chiron informed the class. “I'm sure your parents have told you one version of how Kronos, the former king, was overthrown and his kingdom divided.”

“Dad says Zeus did it all single-handedly!” Clarisse called out. Considered by some as the class bully, Clarisse was the eldest daughter of Ares, Lord of Obrimus, and nearly as foul-tempered as her father was renowned to be. “That's why he's the King!”

“Zeus wasn't the only one to fight Kronos for the kingdom!” Percy countered, angry at Clarisse for belittling Poseidon's part in the overthrow. He had little patience for the daughter of Ares on most days, having been on the receiving end of her bullying, despite being a prince. “All of Kronos' children fought back against his tyranny, not just Zeus.”

“Perseus, Clarisse,” Chiron interrupted the spat before it could continue. He raised his hand and waited for silence from both students before speaking up again. “First of all, you will refer to him as King Zeus, as is respectful for a king of Panhellas. Secondly, Perseus is correct in saying all of Kronos' children fought to dethrone their father. Though it was King Zeus who first proposed the plan to take the throne, all of his siblings helped, thus they split the previous kingdom amongst themselves.”

“Creating the six kingdoms of Ceraunius, Asphaleios, Basileia, Chthonius, Boulaia, and Malophorus,” Annabeth spoke up. Everyone knew the six kingdoms, ruled by Zeus, Poseidon, Hera, Hades, Hestia, and Demeter. “King Zeus and his siblings forced Kronos into exile, sending him far to the west, ending his reign and establishing the peace our kingdoms have known since then.”

 Chiron gave a nod. “The three brothers, Zeus, Poseidon, and Hades, took for themselves the largest sections of their father's kingdom and established themselves as Kings for their own lands.” Chiron gestured to the carefully drawn map of Panhellas he had hanging on the wall. “King Zeus took the northern lands, while King Poseidon took the eastern coast, and King Hades, the western lands bordered by the Erebus Mountains.”

“The Queens took the remaining lands,” Annabeth continued, knowing the history almost as well as Chiron, since her mother had passed to her a thirst for knowledge and taught her from an early age. “Queen Hera shares her land with Zeus, Ceraunius and Basileia becoming the central kingdoms of Panhellas. Queen Demeter took the fertile farmlands for her kingdom, and Queen Hestia took the dry lands and the oasis that became her citadel.”

“All of which you, as the future heads of your respective households, must learn about,” Chiron said, addressing the whole class. “The Houses of Panhellas all interact and trade with one another, which is what makes the kingdoms prosper. You will need to know the trades offered, the trade routes used, and the expectations that each House has for their trade partners. Over the next couple of weeks, we will be going over the trade system, but for the weekend, brush up on each of your own House trades for discussion when we reconvene. You are all dismissed.”

The class broke up and all began to go their own ways. Most of the students would be returning to their dorms for the afternoon to study or they would head for the school's training ground for training to work out the kinks in their muscles from sitting in the classroom. Percy, per usual, quickly joined Annabeth in the hallway to walk down to the entrance of the academy, where his servant and best friend, Grover, waited with the carriage that would take him back to the palace.

“Trades,” Annabeth mused aloud, carefully placing her notes in her satchel as she walked along. “Erganê has three major trades. Olive oil, textiles, and...”

“And the lesson is over,” Percy pointed out. He had stuffed his own inadequate notes in his satchel before leaving the classroom to join Annabeth. “You can think on trades later. Grover and I are going on a hunt this weekend. Do you want to join us?”

Nonplussed by her friend's dismissal of the weekend study Chiron had set for them, Annabeth wrinkled her nose. “I can't. I'm returning to Erganê this weekend, remember? It's Panathenae next week, remember? Mom wants me back to participate in the rites. I won't be back until the week after next.”

“Oh.”

Percy couldn't help feeling a bit of dismay at that. It had been a long time since he'd been able to just hang out with his two oldest friends. He, Annabeth, and Grover had been pretty inseparable when they were younger, despite the fact that all three of them were from three separate classes of life – Percy, the Crown Prince; Annabeth, the heiress to the House of Athena; Grover, a crippled young servant of the palace. Once Percy had turned twelve, nearly four years ago now, and started his studies of what he needed to know as Crown Prince, they'd rarely had a chance to hang out. It was only because he and Annabeth were attending Hemitheos together that they saw each other.

“Don't be so disappointed,” Annabeth told him. She gave him a light smile. “I'll still be coming to the ball for your birthday.”

“Thank gods,” Percy grinned. “I don't know how I'd get through a ball without you.”

“Considering you can't dance to save your life?”

“Amphitrite's disgusted with me. Not that that's anything new.”

The Queen of Asphaleios, Amphitrite, was Poseidon's first wife and she made no secret of her grudge against Percy and his mother, Sally, for the fact that Percy had been made Crown Prince, instead of her own son, Triton. It hadn't been anything that either of them could help; the law stated that the first born son would be the heir to the throne and it hadn't been as though Sally could stop giving birth to Percy long enough for Amphitrite to give birth to Triton first. Percy was a mere fifteen minutes older than his half-brother, but those fifteen minutes had led to, thus far, fifteen years of anger from the Queen.

“I'm sure you can survive one ball, Percy,” Grover spoke up from where he stood beside the carriage as Percy and Annabeth left the academy building. He clutched the door to the carriage open with one hand, his other holding onto his crutch. “It's for your birthday.”

“It's mine and Triton's sixteenth birthday,” Percy corrected. Sixteen was the big birthday in Panhellas, when one came of age. Even the basest residents of Panhellas celebrated their sixteenth birthday with enthusiasm. It being Percy and Triton's sixteenth meant that the upcoming ball for the princes' birthday was going to be a huge deal. “The guest list alone is huge. Did you know my father invited all of my cousins?”

Annabeth smiled with a hopeful look in her eyes. “So Thalia will be there?”

“Maybe,” Percy replied with a shrug before getting into the carriage at Grover's insistence. He held his hand up so Grover didn't close the door yet, so he could continue talking with Annabeth. “Things between my father and King Zeus have been better lately, so it's possible Thalia and Jason will come.”

“Queen Hera won't allow them to skip out on it,” Annabeth pointed out. She was actually a citizen of Ceraunius, and equally friends with Thalia and Jason as she was with Percy. She knew his cousins better than he did, having been close to Thalia since they were little, much closer to the daughter of King Zeus than she'd ever been with Percy.

“Thalia might try to skip out anyways,” Grover pointed out. He leaned against his crutch, wrinkling his nose. “She's always been more comfortable out on a hunt with Artemis than at a social function.”

Annabeth gave a bit of a sigh. “True. But it'll put a damper on the relationship between Ceraunius and Asphaleios if she doesn't come. Things have already been tense since King Zeus and King Poseidon fought over the land rights of Cisseus. As the future Queen, Thalia wouldn't dare risk making relations between your kingdoms worse, Percy.”

“We'll have to see about that,” Percy shrugged. Truth be told, he wasn't sure of anything concerning Thalia. He hadn't seen either her or her brother, Jason, since the fight between their fathers. He was actually closer to his cousins from Chthonius – Bianca, Nico, and Hazel. “There's still three weeks before the ball. I'm not holding my breath for anything yet.”

Annabeth gave a nod of understanding. Three weeks was a long time and anything could happen in those three weeks. “At any rate, I'll see you when I come back from Erganê. Don't forget to do your studies while I'm gone. I won't be here to remind you.”

“I'll study,” Percy promised. He paused a moment later, remembering something his father had told him that morning. “Except I start training with Luke tomorrow.”

“Luke?” Annabeth asked, raising an eyebrow. Percy could see her cheeks redden slightly. “Luke, as in the captain of the guard, Luke Castellan?”

“Yeah. Dad and Delphin decided that it was time for me to start training with the guard, since I'll be old enough to enter the military. He assigned Luke to train me because he says Luke is the best.”

“He is.” The color of Annabeth's cheeks darkened a little as she clutched the strap of her satchel closer. “I've seen him in tournaments before he came here. He's always been really good with a sword. He'll be a good teacher.”

“He must be. Delphin's had him training the guard and he's been impressed so far.”

“I do hate to interrupt the conversation,” Grover spoke up. “But we really need to get going. It's almost time for your lessons with Delphin and Amphitrite's going to be upset if we get back late again.”

Both Percy and Annabeth gave exasperated sighs. Annabeth looked to Percy and gave him a smile. “I'll write you while I'm away. You know Nike doesn't take long to fly between Erganê and here, so we can keep in contact.”

Percy nodded. Nike was Annabeth's messenger bird, a Little Owl, and they'd been using her to send letters to each other whenever they weren't at Hemitheos together, such as whenever Annabeth returned to Erganê or when Percy had gone to visit his cousins in Aidoneus last summer. Most letters were sent by messenger bird, though the birds varied; some people used hawks, owls were used, as were falcons. Word had it that King Zeus used an eagle as a messenger, but Percy didn't know whether that was true or not.

“Keep me up to date, Percy,” Annabeth told her friend. “If Chiron assigns anything while I'm away, I want to know.”

Percy gave her a smirk. “Alright, alright. I'll send you your homework.”

Grover cleared his throat, an indiscreet reminder that he and Percy had to leave. Annabeth stepped back and let Grover close the door to the carriage, waving to Percy before she headed back into the school to pack her things for the trip back to her home city. Grover scrambled his way up to the box seat, stashed his crutch in a safe place, and picked up the reins, clicking his tongue to signal the two horses, Skylla and Sthenios, to start pulling the small carriage.

* * * * *

The palace of King Poseidon of Asphaleios stood along the north-western shore, along the cape that divided Poseidon's kingdom from his brother's. Though it was still part of the city of Aegaeon, there was a near empty stretch of land between the palace and the main streets of the city. Mostly, it was trees and field, with a handful of small houses and one or two farms scattered here and there along the road. Percy often took his horse, Blackjack, for a ride through this area and the shoreline, just to take a break from his daily studies in the palace, before he'd been entered into Chiron's class at the academy. These days, it was a rare day that he got to take Blackjack out for even a short ride.

In the carriage, it was little over twenty minutes from the city to the palace. It was a boring ride, for the most part, since Grover was up front in the box seat and Percy was inside the carriage on his own. He would have liked if Annabeth had been able to come along. She often did and it made the ride to the palace more tolerable. Without the daughter of Lady Athena, or any other company, Percy had little more to do than pick at the stitches of his shirt hem.

Thankfully, despite the boring ride, the twenty minutes were short and Grover was soon pulling up to the front stairs of the palace. He pulled the carriage over and tugged at the reins to stop the horses. Moments later, he was down from the box seat and pulling the door open for Percy.

“Welcome home, Percy.”

Percy gave a smile, seeing his mother standing at the bottom of the steps, with one of her attendants. Sally, though not the Queen and not even from high society at all, was every bit a queen to Percy, and his father, as Amphitrite was. Born to a middle class couple in the city, she had lost her parents when she was young and been raised by an uncle, though Sally had ended up taking care of him as she got older and he'd fallen ill. After her uncle died, she'd taken a job at the market. Whether by the hand of fate or by extreme coincidence, the job she had taken had been with a food seller who had connections to the palace and had sent Sally there with deliveries more than once.

Poseidon, although already married to Amphitrite at the time, had taken a shine to the pretty young woman who brought the deliveries. Though it wasn't unheard of for a king to eye a young woman, the fact that Poseidon had courted and taken Sally as a second wife had been pretty unusual. It was well within his right and Sally was happy as she was. She didn't mind that she was the second wife; as long as she had the love of her husband, her son, and her books, she was happy.

Percy joined his mother, hugging her as he did every day when he came back from the academy. “Hi, Mom,” he greeted her. He was a little shorter than her, just at the right height for him to rest his chin on her shoulder. “How are you?”

Sally returned the hug, embracing her son with a warm smile of her own. “I am fine, Percy, as I am every day.” She pulled back from the hug and took Percy's hands in hers. “I hope you had a good day with Chiron?”

Percy gave a nod. Aside from the brief scruple with Clarisse over his father's involvement against Kronos, the lesson had been just fine. “Everything was fine,” he said. “Annabeth's going back to Erganê for the next week for Panathenae, so I have to keep up with my studies without her.”

“That won't be so hard,” Sally replied, her smile gentle. She knew her son had a bit of trouble with his studies, but she had faith in him. She gave his hands an affectionate squeeze. “Join me for a walk around the gardens before you go inside?”

“I'd love to.” Percy didn't get to spend a lot of time with his mother lately, always busy doing one thing or another. Of course he'd jump at the chance to join Sally, even for a walk around the gardens.

Sally's smile widened and she let go of her son's hands to stand next to him. She dismissed her attendant and took the soft blue velvet of her gown in her hands as she took the last few steps down the stairs with Percy at her side. The two of them went around to the side of the palace that faced the ocean, where the gardens lay along the retaining wall overlooking the sea. The gardens were Sally's favorite place to be on the palace grounds, the plants lush and colorful, the sweet scents of the blooms mingling with the salt air that blew in from the sea.

The gardens were well kept by the palace staff. The gardeners cared for each plant like a child, nurturing the growth and life of the bushes, flowers, and trees. Even through winter, when many of the plants died or laid dormant through the chill months, the gardeners kept themselves busy, tending to the sturdy flora that flourished in the cold, so that there was always something to enjoy in the gardens. Many of the plants were gifts from Poseidon's twin sister, Demeter, transplanted from her own gardens in Anesidora, bred to be strong year round.

Sally used to bring Percy here when he was a child, leading him through the garden as she told him tales. He would run along the path that wove through the gardens, peek over the wall to try to catch a glimpse of the nereids his mother claimed danced on the waves. Lunches taken in the garden would be shared with the nymphs Sally whispered were hiding among the trees and bushes, whether Percy saw them or not.

These days, Percy knew that his mother's stories, as much as he enjoyed them, were just stories. He was too old to be looking for nymphs, knew there were no nereids prancing over the cresting waves. The gardens no longer held that air of fantasy, though they were still as beautiful now as they were when he was a child. They were just gardens, lovingly cared for and thoroughly enjoyed. Still, walking along the worn stone path alongside his mother, Percy couldn't help fondly remembering the times in his childhood when the gardens had been magical.

“Do you look forward to your birthday?” Sally asked as they paused by the roses. She reached out and touched one of the blossoming roses, leaning in to smell the flower.

Percy gave a nod. “Yeah. There's a lot to look forward to. I'll be of age, I'll be able to help Dad with his duties, officially.” Though he was the Crown Prince, by law, he couldn't sit with his father during any official council until he was sixteen. After that, it would be at least two more years until Percy took the throne himself, possibly longer, if Poseidon believed Percy needed more time under his tutelage. “Things will be busier than ever.”

A light smile graced Sally's lips as she turned from the roses to her son, placing her hand against Percy's arm. “You know your father would be glad to help you through learning to be a leader. He had to learn it all himself.” She planted a kiss to her son's cheek. “Don't worry yourself too much, Percy. It won't all be work and study.”

She took his arm and led him to the center of the garden, where an elegant marble fountain stood. The fountain featured four frolicking dolphins, Poseidon's chosen symbolic animals, water spouting from their mouths, forming arches that ended in the pool of the fountain. Sally brought her son to the fountain, sitting him down on the raised edge.

“Your father's arranged to have your portrait painted for your birthday,” she said. She folded her hands over the blue velvet of her skirt as she sat next to Percy. “I managed to convince him to have your friend, Rachel, do the portrait.”

“Really?” Percy couldn't help perking up a bit. Rachel was one of the few friends he had outside of what was considered the usual social circle. The daughter of a wealthy merchant, Rachel had left her father's home in Hodios, the merchant city, to study art as an Apprentice under one of the great teachers in Erganê. It was in Erganê that she and Percy had first met and become friends. They kept in touch through letters, much like Percy and Annabeth did. “It'll be good to see her again.”

“She and her teacher will be arriving next week,” Sally told him. “She'll be doing your portrait, while another student does Triton's. Your father's asked that her teacher do the portrait of you and Triton for the family gallery.”

Sitting for paintings was not something Percy particularly enjoyed. It was always boring, long hours of holding still while the artist sketched and painted. No doubt, Percy would have to wear his ceremonial garb, all stiff collars and tight in the arms, medals of his position adorning his chest, and his crown upon his brow. At least there was the benefit of the artist being a friend; Rachel would gladly give him decent breaks and chat his ear off. They could catch up with everything they hadn't put into letters for the last year or so since the last time he'd seen her.

“I look forward to it,” Percy said, smiling slightly. Maybe not actually sitting for the painting, but seeing his friend again.

The conversation turned from Percy's birthday, to how his day in school had been, to what Sally had been doing all day – she had been working on her book, a collection of the stories she used to tell her son. Some time passed before one of the servants came to the garden to fetch Percy, who had been called to by Delphin, King Poseidon's adviser.

Leaving his mother in the garden, Percy made his way to the palace, to the council room where the servant had said Delphin would be waiting for him. Along the way, he passed by the audience hall. The door was open and he could just catch a glimpse of Amphitrite seated on her throne. The queen was, as she often did, acting on the king's behalf in his absence; when her husband was away from the throne – on business, as he was now – Amphitrite was given the power to take care of matters at home. She ruled in his stead and would until Percy was ready to take the throne.

As he passed the audience hall, a figure stepped through the doors to join him in the corridor. Triton, his half-brother, though younger than him by a mere fifteen minutes, was taller than Percy and looked older, more mature. The two sons of Poseidon looked remarkably alike, both having their father's black hair – though where Percy wore his short, Triton's reached past his shoulders, usually pulled back in a ponytail – and tall build. The biggest difference between them was their eye color; Percy had Poseidon's sea green eyes while Triton had his mother's stormy blue.

Triton and Percy were not the closest of brothers, by any means. All their lives, they had been separated, Percy raised by his mother and Triton raised by his. While Sally raised her son to be accepting of both his and his brother's lot in life, taught Percy not to gloat or presume he was better than Triton because he was the first born and, thus, heir to the throne, Amphitrite, in her silent rage that her son had been born second, had raised Triton to be cold to his half-brother as she was cold to her husband's second wife.

It made the times where the half-brothers were together very awkward for Percy. If Triton even spoke to him, it was with the same haughty tone Amphitrite used with him, those stormy blue eyes cold, and a disdainful smirk over over tight lips. Despite Sally's attempts to teach her son to take the higher road in these situations, Percy would match Triton gesture for gesture. In public, they were civil enough; they never openly fought – that was behavior unsuitable for princes – but they never openly agreed on anything, either.

Most of the time, if they didn't have to acknowledge each other's existence, they didn't.

Triton barely gave Percy a glance now. The younger son of Poseidon passed his brother, purposefully bumping his shoulder against Percy's to shove him aside a bit. Percy said nothing, though annoyance coursed through him, because of the attending guards and waiting officials standing outside the audience hall that were watching. It was one of those moments where Percy had to put his appearance as the Crown Prince ahead of his own personal pride and he was sure Triton had known that.

Triton was out of sight a few moments later, quick strides taking him down the hall to the library, where his own lessons were to take place. Percy caught up and glanced into the library. Triton's back was turned to him, which meant that any petty gesture Percy could make in retaliation were pointless. He didn't have time to wait for his half-brother to turn back to him, either. Delphin was waiting for him and the king's adviser would not be kept waiting long, even if Percy was the Crown Prince.

So Percy continued on his way and joined Delphin a few minutes later in the council room. As usual, when Delphin called him to meet, it was for his typical lessons in the duties he would be undertaking as the future king. Though he learned much of government and how the kingdoms were run in his classes with Chiron, it was Delphin and Poseidon who taught him specifically how Asphaleios was governed. Because Percy was still a minor in the eyes of the law, he could not yet take official duties, like tending to the daily needs of the kingdom, but they made sure to teach him everything he needed to know.

Delphin tested him today, providing Percy with a handful of scenarios that would be among those he would be faced with as the future king. Once Percy had given adequate solutions to each, the adviser gave his input for what could be done better. As adviser, this was Delphin's job, helping the king make the decisions that would be best for the kingdom and its people. Delphin took the job quite seriously, giving Percy a lecture on how the king's decisions went further than the palace, further than Aegaeon.

“A king's decision affects his entire Kingdom,” Delphin explained. He picked up a book and brought it over to Percy, putting it in his hands. “I want you to read this short history of your father's reign. Three chapters tonight. I will be quizzing you tomorrow afternoon. You're free to go for now.”

“Thanks.” Percy stood up and headed out the door.

“Oh, before I forget,” Delphin called back, prompting Percy to stop in his tracks and peek back in the door. “We received a message from your father while you at Chiron's. His business in Romae looks as though it will take longer than expected. He still hopes to return in time for your birthday, but he wanted to get word here that he may be late.”

“Oh.” Percy tried not to be upset by this. It wouldn't be the first time King Poseidon had missed his sons' birthday, but their sixteenth was supposed to be the most important, the one that their father should be present at, no matter what else was going on. However, as he knew from his lessons, both with Chiron and with Delphin, Percy couldn't be selfish. If his father was needed on business in Romae, then that's where Poseidon should be. Of course, he knew Poseidon would make up for it if he did end up missing their birthday; he always made up for missed birthdays. “The negotiations with Romae are more important than my birthday. We can always pray for his prompt return.”

“Well spoken,” Delphin smiled. He gestured for Percy to take his leave.

Leaving the council room, Percy chose to retire to his chambers. It had been a long day and he had another long day ahead of him. Being the Crown Prince of Asphaleios didn't excuse him from long days, after all.

 


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Pretend I updated this yesterday like I said I would and not a day late because I'm a flake who forgot what day it was. I play a lot with character relationships in the chapter and introduce some hints of the future plot. I hope you enjoy this chapter and stay tuned for the next!

As has been arranged with one of the servants, Percy was woken before dawn to prepare for this lessons with Luke. A missive from the captain the previous night has instructed him to come to the training grounds at dawn. He wasn’t to eat breakfast and he wasn’t to be late. Luke would be treating Percy like he would any other soldier; this was combat training, the type that would normally be taught at a military camp. There would be no exceptions made, no matter what social station one might hold.

So, once the servant had roused him from sleep, well before dawn, Percy shuffled around his room, dressing in the leather breeches and linen shirt that he normally wore on hunts. He pulled on his thick leather boots and fastened his leather vambraces around his forearms. Because it was still cold in the early hours of the morning, he briefly debated putting a cloak around his shoulders, though he inevitably decided against it; no doubt that he would soon be too warm, with the training Luke would be putting him through.

Finished with his preparations, Percy left his room and headed through the dimly lit corridors of the palace. The training grounds were tucked between the palace and the wall on the north-east side of the grounds, near the stables. Percy crossed the palace, pausing briefly by the kitchens, where the staff was already at work preparing the meals of the day. It would be so easy to slip in and ask the cook for something small, even some fruit, for a quick bite before heading to the training grounds, but a glance out the window to the lightening sky had Percy moving on so he could get to the grounds before the sun rose.

Luke was already waiting when Percy got there. The two of them had never actually met before, though Percy had seen Luke training with the guard before several times. He knew Luke’s face from a distance, recognized him by sight, but they’d never met face-to-face before. Luke had come to Asphaleios only a few years ago, joined the guard, and quickly proved himself an astounding fighter. Even more astonishing, the young man had rose through the ranks more quickly than anyone had anticipated, making captain just last year.

“Well, you made it here in time,” Luke told Percy, an approving smirk over his lips. For the first time, Percy noticed just how handsome the guard captain was; he knew that many of the maids found Luke attractive, what with his sun-tanned skin and toned muscles, but Luke also had a very handsome face as well. Bright blue eyes peeked out from his lashes and his sandy blond hair just framed a strong jawline. The only thing that marred his appearance was the scar, deep and ragged, that ran down his right cheek, from his eye to his chin. “That’s your first point for the day.”

Percy nodded, just a little winded, as he’d run  the last stretch between the kitchens and the stables to make it in time. “You said not to be late, so I’m not late.”

“Good. I don’t like to be kept waiting.” Luke’s smirk turned into an outright grin and he gestured to the track that hugged the edges of the training ground. “Which means we can get started. Stretch out a minute, then I want you to run five laps.”

“Really?” Percy hated laps. He’d done laps all the time with Delphin and his old instructor, Quintus, when he’d been doing basic training. He was ready for combat training, not the same old boring exercises he’d been doing since he was a kid.

“Do you want to train with the guard or not?” Luke asked. His piercing blue eyes met Percy’s as he crossed his arms over his chest. There was a hard look in the blue eyes that had seemed so nonchalant just a few moments ago. “You don’t get to train with us if you snub the training, no matter who you are.”

Remembering the missive and Luke’s directions, as well as Delphin’s note when he’d first told Percy that he would be training with the guard, the prince gave a nod of understanding and started his warm ups. Whether he was fond of exercises or not, he had to do them. Once he was all stretched out, he started his laps. Luke joined him shortly, easily outrunning him, but making it clear that these training sessions weren’t just for Percy; Luke would be doing his own training as well.

The stretches and laps were just the beginning. It was their first training session, after all, and Luke explained that he needed to make an assessment of what Percy already knew. He wouldn’t let Percy join the rest of the guard until he knew the prince was ready. Delphin had given an assessment of his own, but Luke wanted to see for himself and, if he thought it was necessary, he would make sure Percy got any extra training he needed before joining the rest of the guard. As Luke tested Percy’s skills and reflexes, he told the younger man what he had planned.

“You’re not ready to join the guard for our usual training,” Luke explained, tossing a wooden practice sword to Percy. “We’re an elite guard. Even though the kingdoms are at peace now, we are soldiers, the best in Asphaleios. This isn’t a bunch of kids playing at being knights. This is serious combat training. What you will learn with me, and with the rest of the guard when you’re ready, will keep you alive in a real fight.”

Percy nodded. “I’m ready to learn.”

Luke smirked, bringing his sword up. “Delphin said he’s taught you the basics of sword play. Let’s see how much you know.”

With that, Luke lunged forward with a downward cut, which Percy blocked quickly after back-stepping to give himself room to move. Luke moved again, swinging wide. Percy made his own move accordingly, shifting his body and lifting his sword to block. The exchange continued, both of them moving easily, though Luke’s movements were so much more fluid than Percy’s, the older man so clearly more experienced and at ease with a sword. In contrast, Percy fumbled, skidded, and got quite a few bruises from the times he hadn’t been fast enough to block Luke’s strikes.

Percy was very glad that Luke had opted to use wooden swords for practice. By the time Luke stopped and called the assessment match, Percy was sore, but at least he wasn’t cut to pieces, like he would be if they’d used steel blades.

“You’re too dependant on your eyes,” Luke told him as he took the wooden sword out of Percy’s hands. He put the swords aside and reached into the pocket of his leather trousers, pulling a strip of cloth from it a moment later. He moved over to Percy and stood behind him, drawing the cloth over Percy’s eyes, effectively blinding him. “You spend too much time watching and not enough time reacting.”

“How am I supposed to react when I can’t see?” Percy asked. He couldn’t see anything past the dark cloth over his eyes. It was very disconcerting. Without his sight, he couldn’t tell what Luke was doing. All he knew was that Luke was walking away. A moment later, he could hear the guard captain moving things around. “Luke?”

“I want you to hone your senses,” Luke called. Percy couldn’t tell how far away the older man was, but there was obviously a good distance between them. “Listen for signals, then I want you to avoid getting hit.”

“What?”

Not more than a moment later, something hit Percy hard against his shoulder. Instinctively, he reached for the blindfold, ready to take it off and give Luke a piece of his mind. Before he could, though, there was another hit, this time, hitting the same hand Percy had lifted to try to take off the blindfold and he would up smacking himself in the face as a result.

“Don’t even think about it, Percy,” Luke told him. Just by the sound of his voice, Percy was sure the guard captain was smiling, enjoying himself. “I’ll just hit you with another sack.”

“What’s the point of this?” Percy asked.

He was rewarded with another sack thrown at him, this one hitting him in the chest.

“I told you, I want you to listen for signals and dodge these. You’re not doing very well. Now, listen, Percy!”

Percy took a deep breath, letting himself go still as he just paused and listened. He could hear a scuff in the dirt not too far away, then a soft rush of wind. He couldn’t tell exactly which direction it was coming from, but he thought it was on his left, so he moved right. The movement was just a little slow, however, and the sack Luke had thrown hit him in his side.

“Keep trying,” Luke told him. “We’ll do this for a while every time we train, until you get better at predicting movements.”

Luke continued to throw sacks at Percy, changing timing and direction with every new projectile. Percy was hit more often than not, but after a while, he did manage to dodge one or two of the sacks. Finally, Luke announced that the exercise was done, though Percy wasn’t allowed to take the blindfold off just yet.

“There’s one more thing I want you to do before we’re done here,” the older man explained. He took Percy’s shoulders and guided the prince for a moment. “Are you familiar with the obstacle course?”

Percy nodded. “Quintus had me run it a couple of times.”

“Well, I’m gonna have you run it blindfolded,” Luke said. “If you make it through, you can have breakfast.”

“And if I don’t?”

“Five more laps.”

Percy didn’t think that was very fair. He was hungry! He was regretting passing the kitchens without nabbing at least an apple or something. Luke cut into any complaint Percy might make by informing him  that he was now standing in front of the obstacle course and that he could start any moment now. Heaving a sigh, the young prince took a moment to recall the layout of the obstacle course. He had only run it three times when he’d been training with Quintus and he’d never actually made it all the way through.

The first part of the course, he recalled, was a double-line of old wash tubs that he had to step through. Because he was blindfolded, he wasn’t very quick and he stubbed his toes more than once as he went through it, but he cleared that part of the course. He tripped on the last tub, but thankfully, the next part of the course was a net of rope he had to climb to the top of a small tower. That wasn’t so difficult, really.

What was on the other side of the tower, though, held him up; he’d always been terrible with the the climbing frame. Annabeth always laughed at him for the trouble he had crossing the set of bars that stretched over the mud trench, while she could cross it with ease in moments, even in a skirt. Percy paused at the edge of the tower before the beginning of the climbing frame and took a deep breath, preparing himself for the next part of the course.

“Come on, Percy!” Luke called from the ground. “The climbing frame isn’t that hard!”

“Have you ever seen me on it?” Percy called back.

“Don’t be such a baby, Prince. If you get past it, I’ll reward you.”

The way Luke had spoken, his voice carrying a teasing tone, did not help Percy. For a brief moment, a thought of the kind of reward Luke might offer crossed his mind and it was an entirely inappropriate thought; instead of the breakfast that had been offered previously, Percy thought of Luke’s lips on his.

Where did that thought even come from? Percy asked himself.

He shook himself out of that train of thought and reached out for the first bar of the climbing frame. Gripping the bar, Percy swung himself forward and reached for the next bar. Then the next. He couldn’t remember how many bars were on the climbing frame, but by the time he grabbed the fifth bar, he was hoping he wasn’t far from the end, for his arms were shaking, his weight pulling him down. He hung for a brief moment, taking another deep breath and sending a silent prayer to Thalassa, the ocean goddess most worshipped in Asphaleios, for the strength to finish this course.

Many people questioned the point of praying when prayers were so rarely answered. Percy wasn’t really one of those people, though he wouldn’t exactly call himself a pious person, either. Most of his prayers weren’t anything he expected would be answered. So when his hand missed the bar he’d been reaching for, when he fell from the climbing frame into the mud pit below, he didn’t blame Thalassa for ignoring his trivial prayer.

After landing in the mud, Percy gave a groan, pulling himself up. He wiped a hand over his face, trying to sweep most of the mud from his nose and mouth. The blindfold Luke had put over his eyes had protected him from getting mud in his eyes, but nothing could protect his ears from the sound of Luke’s laughter as the guard captain approached, stepping into the mud to help Percy up. Percy gripped to Luke’s hand as he stood up and, once he was standing, reached to take off the blindfold. This time, Luke let him do so.

“I hate the climbing frame,” Percy grumbled, wiping his mouth again after tasting mud on his lips.

Luke just laughed again. “Don’t waste your hatred on the climbing frame. It’s not like it can hate you back.” He gave Percy an encouraging thump on his back. “By the time I’m done with you, you’ll forget all about hating the climbing frame.”

“I doubt that.”

Luke grinned, teeth flashing in the light of the morning sun that lit the training grounds now. Percy felt his cheeks warm suddenly and that thought of Luke’s lips on his ran through his mind again. He had to take a moment to quash that thought down again, still unsure of where it kept coming from. He didn’t know Luke very well, why would he be thinking of such things?

“Well,” Luke said, “you didn’t make it through the course, but you did pretty well for being blindfolded, so I think you’ve earned part of breakfast. You still have to do the extra five laps, first, though.”

Percy groaned. After the fall into the mud pit, the last thing he wanted to do was run five laps around the track, covered in mud and sore from the landing. He reminded himself that he had wanted to undertake this training for a long time and he wasn’t going to waste his or Luke’s time by not doing what Luke instructed. He wasn’t going to quit.He wasn’t going to disappoint his father, Delphin or Quintus, Luke or himself, by giving up the training before he could even make any improvement.

So he ran the laps, Luke joining him as he had with the first bout around the track. His body ached and protested the entire sprint, but when he was done, Luke called an end to the training session. The older man led Percy to the benches on the sidelines of the training grounds, where he had some food sitting in a basket. The two of them split a loaf of bread and some cheese, washing it all down with water from the goatskin that had been sitting in the basket with the food.

After they had eaten, Luke turned to Percy. “So today wasn’t that bad,” he told the younger man. “Most of the boys that want to join the guard do about as well as you did, so I’m going to put you on the same regime as them. We’ll continue the private sessions, three days a week, until I think you’re ready to join the rest of the guard for the usual training sessions.”

Luke pulled out a new blindfold, unsullied by mud, and handed it to Percy. “In the mean time, I want you to practice doing something blindfolded for an hour every day. Doesn’t matter what it is, you just can’t take the blindfold off for an hour.”

Percy nodded and tucked the blindfold into his pocket. “Alright. I’m sure I can think of something to do blindfolded.”

Luke grinned at him again, his lips tugging at the scar that ran down his cheek. “I’m sure you can, too,” he said, that same teasing inflection from earlier coloring his voice and causing Percy to fight down the warmth in his cheeks. “Come back here the day after tomorrow. Same time as today.”

“I’ll be here,” Percy promised. Though today had been a little more embarrassing than he’d expected, what with the blindfolded exercise and his completely undignified fall from the climbing frame, he did look forward to continuing his training with Luke. “What are your plans for the next session?”

Luke raised one finger to his lips, giving a conspiratorial smirk. “You’ll see when we start next time. Although, I’ll warn you now that you might want to bring some leather armor.” He stood up and gathered the remains of breakfast, stuffing it back in the basket. “Now, I’m sure you have other things to be preparing for today. You’ll probably want to head for a bath.”

“Probably,” Percy laughed. He knew he very well couldn’t run around all day covered in dried mud. “I look forward to our next session.”

The way Luke’s lips curved into a devilish smile had Percy feeling a tug in the pit of his stomach and the prince wondered just what Luke had in mind for him the next time they met. “Oh, I look forward to it, too.”

Feeling more than a little flustered, for the tugging at his stomach now accompanied those same inappropriate thoughts that had returned, Percy thanked Luke for his time and started back across the training ground to the palace.

* * * * *

The sun was hiding behind a veil of grey clouds the morning Percy went down to the stables for a day of riding. He had been planning this ride for a while, promising his brother that he’d meet him that morning to spend the day with him. They’d arranged to meet at the stables, where they’d make sure they had supplies for the day before heading out, not to return until evening.

It was rare that Percy got to spend time with his brother; not Triton, but his half-brother, Tyson. There were some obvious reasons that Percy didn’t get to spend a lot of time with Tyson, most of them involving his duties and studies as the Crown Prince, but another reason was that Tyson  was a bastard child of Poseidon . Born of a woman in the city of Erythras, Percy hadn’t even known about Tyson until his thirteenth year, when the boy had come to Aegaeon, seeking his father after his mother had died.

As if spending time in the company of his bastard half-brother wasn’t already frowned down upon by Amphitrite and several of the council members that helped keep the kingdom together, Percy had also been taken aside by Nerites, one of the younger council members, and told that it was un-princely to be seen in the company of someone like Tyson, who was large for his age and born with a deformity that covered his left eye, making him look like a cyclops from the old myths.

At first, Percy had agreed with Nerites, avoiding Tyson and denouncing him as a brother, half or not. In addition to the deformity that had Tyson half-blind, the younger boy seemed to be stupid, deaf to the insults whispered by the guards and palace staff. Percy was ashamed to be related to Tyson for a long time, wondering why Poseidon didn’t just ship his younger son to Aethusa to work in the shipyards.

Despite his disabilities, Tyson proved himself to be much more than he seemed. He was strong, but also gentle, good with the horses in the stables where he asked to work. He had a large, caring heart, seeing the good in people before anything else. Because he had no other family, he would always see Percy and Triton as his brothers, whether they accepted him or not, and he treated them well, making sure that their horses were taken care of and offering to accompany them on rides.

What had changed Percy’s mind the most about Tyson was the day the other boy had saved his life. A new horse, yet untamed by the stable master, had gotten loose while Percy was training with Quintus, and had charged at Percy. Tyson had rushed, with a speed Percy had not been expecting of the large boy, and caught hold of the horses reins and, digging his heels into the earth, had pulled the horse away from his brother.

“Why did you do that?” Percy had asked once the horse had been wrangled back to its stall. “I’ve been awful to you. You could have stood aside and let that horse trample me.”

Tyson had looked horrified at the suggestion, his good eye widening in shock. “I would not do that. You are my brother!”

It hadn’t been because Percy was the heir to the throne that Tyson had intervened. It was Tyson’s devotion to a brother who barely gave him a glance for weeks, who refused to claim kinship to him, that had pushed him to stop the horse. Some may have laughed, called Tyson an idiot for risking himself to save someone who wouldn’t have given him the time of day before, but Percy had hugged Tyson and thanked him, promising that he would start treating the other boy like the brother he was.

Nearly three years later, Percy and Tyson were as close as could be. Though Tyson was busy taking care of the horses, helping the stable-master to train horses for the guard, and making sure the stables stayed clean, he always got one day of rest a week. If Percy’s schedule allowed, the two of them would spend that day together. It wasn’t often that happened, since Percy was frequently busy with various lessons, training, or duties, but they had been planning this particular meeting for weeks, so Percy had managed to make sure this day was clear of all other duties.

At dawn, Percy had risen and changed into his riding clothes, laid out since the night before so he could be ready to go as soon as possible. Tyson had his saddlebags ready, filled with provisions for the day’s meals, as well as goatskins with water for both of them. The two of them met at the stables and, with their horses, Blackjack and Rainbow, ready, they headed out, following the north shore along the River Peneus that divided the kingdoms of Asphaleios and Ceraunius.

The morning meal was eaten on horseback, sandwiches of bread, cheese, and thinly sliced ham. As they rode and ate, Tyson talked of his job in the stables, excitedly telling Percy that the stable master had named him the next stable master and that he’d met a girl in the market - a shy, jittery girl by the name of Ella who helped at the library. He made it clear that he and Ella were just friends at the moment, but maybe he could court her later down the road. Percy talked about his lessons with Luke, though he chose to omit any discussion of the thoughts and feelings that had been aroused during said lessons.

By the time the noon sun was above them, having burned away the morning clouds to shine down from clear skies on their shoulders, Percy and Tyson had ridden several miles. The land had sloped down and was flat. Across the river and along the horizon, rising above the hills in the distance, the peaks of Mount Olympus, near King Zeus’ capital of Astrapaeus, could just be seen. Despite being able to see the mountain, Percy knew it was a deceptive sight; it was a four day ride from the shores of Peneus to Mount Olympus.

Reaching a point where the river narrowed greatly, no more than twenty feet across, Percy and Tyson slowed to a stop. They decided here was as good a place as any to stop to rest for lunch. Tyson led the horses down to the river, picking a place where the water was calm and smooth for the horses to drink their fill, while Percy set up for lunch. He caught a couple of fish from the river while Tyson made a fire to cook them over. With the bread leftover from breakfast, they’d have a decent lunch shortly.

“Well, well, what do we have here?” called a woman’s voice from the other side of the river.

Percy looked up, catching sight of two women on horseback. The voice belonged to the young woman in front; a black-haired woman with sharp, bright blue eyes. She was dressed in fine riding clothes, a gold emblem of a lightning bolt fastening her cloak. She was Thalia, the daughter of King Zeus and heir to the Ceraunius throne. She was also one of Percy and Tyson’s cousins.

Beside her was a woman Percy didn’t recognize. The other woman, by appearance, the same age as Thalia, had long dark brown hair, braided over her shoulder. She did not seem to be from Ceraunius, where many citizens were lighter of skin; in contrast to Thalia’s light skin, this woman looked as though she’d been formed of bronze. She was dressed similar to Thalia, though where the daughter of Zeus wore blue, she wore green.

The two women led their horses across the river, paying no heed to the water that soaked their boots and legs, since they would surely dry off soon, in the heat of the summer sun. Thalia gave a grin as she jumped off her horse and came over to join the boys, while her companion led their horses to join Blackjack and Rainbow to drink.

“If it isn’t my favorite little cousin!” Thalia exclaimed, throwing one arm casually over Percy’s shoulders. “I haven’t seen you since you were this big!” She gestured to her hip with her free hand, then, after a moment, let it drop another foot. “You’ve grown, Kelphead!”

“So have you, Pinecone Face,” Percy shot back with a smirk. The names were from the time they were little, a fight between them that had ended with Thalia shoving Percy into the water and Percy throwing a fallen pinecone at her head. The fight had been many years ago, but they’d made the names a casual joke between them whenever they wrote to each other. “What are you doing all the way out here?”

Thalia gave a nonchalant wave of her hand. “I had to get away from Mother for a while. She’s been harping on me to grow up and take my job as Princess seriously. So I left Astrapaeus a few days ago for a hunt with Artemis and her girls. Zoe and I took off on our own the day before yesterday.”

“Oh, this is Zoe?” Percy asked. Thalia had written of Zoe in her letters before, mentioning how stuck-up the other woman was, but even in the letters, Percy had gotten the feeling that there was more about Zoe, more than Thalia was giving away in letters. Percy offered his hand to Zoe in greeting. “It’s nice to meet you.”

Zoe did not take his hand, keeping her own hands around the strap of the quiver that rested on her back. She did nod her head in acknowledgment, but said nothing.

“She doesn’t like men,” Thalia explained, giving a shrug as she let go of Percy and sat down at the fire Percy and Tyson were cooking their meal over. “Don’t take it personally. She does that to every man.”

“Oh.”

Given that Thalia had mentioned once in her letters that Zoe was a lieutenant of sorts in Artemis’ group, Percy wasn’t really that surprised by Zoe’s behavior. Most of the girls that hunted with Artemis were sworn off men in one way or another. Artemis herself, a noble maiden who was known for her unmatchable archery skills, had sworn off the company of men, which was why her hunting party was entirely made up of women.

Still, whether Zoe liked men or not, Percy could at least be courteous. He offered both women a seat at the campfire. He was about to get up to get more fish when Thalia shook her head and said they’d just eaten their own catch of rabbit. At the very least, Percy could share the wine Tyson had packed for the trip and Thalia agreed to that. So, as Percy and Tyson had their lunch, the four of them drank and talked.

“Father’s off in Illyria,” Thalia said. She gave a wrinkle of her nose. “Supposedly to do business with Lord Asterion, but knowing him, his business is really with Lady Europa.”

Thalia made no secret of her father’s adultery. While most people in Panhellas knew that King Zeus was not faithful to his queen, they would not risk Queen Hera’s wrath by speaking of it as casually as Thalia did. Considering Thalia and her mother were not close, often at odds with each other, of course Thalia would do these little things to annoy her mother, like run off on a hunt or speak openly of her father’s philandering .

“My father’s in Romae,” Percy mentioned. It struck him as odd that both his father and Thalia’s were away from their thrones at the same time, but he didn’t think too much of it. Hera and Amphitrite had everything in hand while their husbands were away, on whatever business they may have. “It’s a busy time of year, I suppose.”

Zoe surprised Percy then by speaking up. “Does it not seem strange that two kings are away from their thrones on business, when there are those rumors from Thrace?”

Percy raised a brow. “What rumors from Thrace?”

Thalia shook her head, a clear look of disbelief over her features. “Those rumors are just nonsense. Nothing to worry about.” She took another drink of wine, swallowed, then gave a shrug. “Everyone knows Kronos is too old and weak to come back. He’s sixty-something by now, if he’s even still alive.”

Percy frowned, thinking about the idea of Kronos returning to Panhellas. From the history lessons with Chiron and the passages from the book Delphin had him read, he knew how cruel the old king had been. The former kingdom of Hellas had been nearly in ruin from Kronos’ rule in those dark days of starving people, poor from tax collectors picking their pockets clean. Anyone who couldn’t pay their taxes were sent to the quarries in the Erebus mountains, made to dig for jewels and gold.

Zeus, the youngest son of Kronos and the only child Queen Rhea had managed to keep, gathered his siblings together from the lands their father had banished them to as children. Grown to adulthood at that point, the children of Kronos had worked together and fought their father, banishing him to the cold northern country of Hyperborea. It had taken them several years to properly divide their father’s kingdom amongst themselves and bring the prosperity that now spread throughout the kingdoms.

The thought of Kronos returning and bringing that to an end was chilling.

“The rumors say he has a new power to win back his throne,” Zoe countered.

“Superstitious nonsense from a bunch of cowering Thracians.” Thalia shrugged it off with another sip of wine before she stood up. “If you ask me, it’s all nonsense. Kronos can’t come back. If he does, my father and his siblings will take him down again. And this time, their children will help. Right, Percy?”

“Huh? Oh. Right.”

Thalia laughed and gestured for Zoe to follow her lead. “Come on, Zoe. We’ve spent enough time with these guys. We have a long ride ahead of us if we’re going to rejoin Artemis by nightfall.” She moved over to her horse and climbed onto its back before giving Percy a grin. “Hey, your birthday’s coming up, right?”

“Yes,” Percy replied. He stood and helped Tyson put out their cooking fire. They had their own ride to return to and visiting with Thalia and Zoe had taken over an hour out of their riding time. “My father sent the invitations to you and Jason a month ago. Will you be there?”

“Of course!” Thalia replied. “Sixteenth birthdays aren’t a thing to miss. You guys already missed mine because our fathers had that stupid fight. I won’t let my cousins miss out on celebrating the way I did.”

Percy smiled. Despite the frequent fights when they were younger, he always knew that Thalia was a very caring cousin. Even if she was the irresponsible cousin, always leaving her palace for hunts, or making her mother threaten to make Jason the heir to the throne, she always took care of her younger relatives.

“You will wear a dress to the ball, right?” Percy asked, smirking at his cousin as she spurred her horse.

“Yes, Mother, I’ll wear a dress to the ball,” Thalia called over her shoulder.

She and Zoe called back their final farewells and headed back across the Peneus. Once across, they let their horses speed up and were soon disappearing out of sight. Percy returned to helping Tyson pack up from lunch and they, too, were soon back on their horses, ready to continue their ride. They would need to turn around in an hour or so, in order to return to Aegaeon, but they still had time to ride for a while.

Percy, as they rode, forgot all about the rumors Zoe had brought up. There were more pleasant things to think on.

 

 


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the last of the pre-completed chapters I have. I am currently working on chapter four and am *hoping* to have it done by the usual weekly update, but I will make no promises as life and family issues come first over writing. I hope you enjoy this chapter! Please leave feedback, as I love to hear from readers!

It had been a week since Percy’s training with Luke began. Every three days, he would join the guard captain for a couple of hours, learning the regime that the guard went through. He was a decent enough student, he thought, making progress at an average pace. Luke still insisted that Percy wasn’t ready to join the rest of the guard recruits, wanting to spend at least a month preparing the pampered prince for the tougher conditions that the guard would be training under.

“I’ve gotten permission to take you to Lycorias for a training camp,” Luke mentioned during their third training session. At Percy’s surprised expression, the older man laughed. “Not yet, of course. It’ll be reward for later, maybe in a month or so. I’ve talked to Queen Amphitrite, Delphin, and your mother about it and they’ve all agreed to it.”

“Really?” Percy was still surprised, even more so that Amphitrite would agree to anything that ‘rewarded’ Percy. Then again, Lycorias was a small town in the south of Asphaleios, just outside of Bellerophon; it was a week’s journey by horseback from Aegaeon, which would mean that Amphitrite wouldn’t have to see him for at least two weeks and however long they’d be at the training camp. “I didn’t think I’d have the chance after I turned sixteen. Seeing as I’ll have royal duties to attend to.”

“Your father will understand that your training will take you away from the palace from time to time,” Luke told him. “He’s got a handle on the council meetings and audiences. Queen Amphitrite’s already made this clear to me when I spoke with her in your father’s stead. Besides, His Majesty knew that part of the training you’d be getting would include this training camp when he had Delphin speak to me about training you.”

“Oh.” Percy looked forward to the trip, really. He would be grinning about it, bouncing on his heels, even, except that Luke had resumed the spar between them and Percy had to lift his sword to block the older man’s move. “So, a month or so?”

“Yeah.” Luke pivoted, swinging his leg around Percy to hook his foot behind the prince’s own. When Percy tripped and fell backwards to the ground, Luke gave a wicked grin and was quick to pin Percy down. “Unless I think you need longer.”

Percy wasn’t sure what had him breathless - the fall or Luke’s proximity. Luke had the blade of his wooden practice sword against his neck, his left hand holding Percy’s sword arm to the ground to effectively keep Percy from attacking. One of Luke’s knees was pinning down Percy’s leg, while the other was settled between his legs, and Luke was grinning at him, lips curled and baring his teeth. Percy was sure his face was red, and he hoped that, if Luke noticed, the guard captain would think it was from exhaustion.

“I think that’s enough for today,” Luke said. He pushed himself up from his position over Percy and stood up before offering his student a hand up. He pulled Percy up and took the younger man’s practice sword from him to be put away with the rest of the practice equipment. “Same time the day after tomorrow, Percy. Be ready to try the climbing frame again.”

Percy really wanted to groan at that; he still hated the climbing frame. However, he knew better than to groan, as Luke would likely make him try the climbing frame now, instead of waiting. So, instead, Percy nodded, inwardly cursing the climbing frame for even existing. He could have just gone through life blissfully free of embarrassment at the hand of the cross bars if the climbing frame never existed.

Luke seemed to know exactly what was on Percy’s mind, as he glanced at the climbing frame on the other side of the courtyard, then back at Percy before giving a grin. “Next time we meet up for training, I’ll show you a trick to the climbing frame.”

That had Percy perking up a bit. “Really?”

Luke laughed. “Yeah, really. It’s not hard and it’ll cut down your time on the obstacle course. But that’s for later. You should return to your rooms for now. Take a bath. Your mother said you’ve got a portrait to sit for today.”

“Right.” Percy nodded and turned to head back for the palace. “See you then, Luke.”

* * * * *

_Luke was above him, wooden sword pressed against Percy’s throat and a wicked grin over his lips. The older man had Percy very effectively trapped beneath him, his hand pinning Percy’s sword arm to the ground. Luke was stronger than Percy was, having trained and fought in tournaments longer than Percy had even ever held a sword. There was no chance of throwing Luke off him._

_“Still have a long way to go,” Luke told him. His tongue slid over his lower lip briefly to wet the dry skin as he looked down at Percy. “I have a lot to teach you.”_

_“Isn’t that why we’re here?” Percy asked. Luke was, after all, supposed to train him enough to join the guard for a year before he took the throne. “So you can teach me?”_

_Luke gave a thoughtful hum. “That’s true. Why don’t we take the lessons to the next step?” he asked. He leaned down, still holding Percy to the ground, and pressed his lips against the younger man’s in a deep kiss._

_Though the kiss was initially met with surprise, Percy didn’t waste time laying there, slack-jawed. He recovered from his surprise and met Luke’s kiss with fervor, letting himself relax beneath the guardsman. He felt Luke’s tongue probe the inside of his mouth and slide over his own. The kiss was hot and wet and, when Luke broke it, it left Percy breathless._

_He barely had the chance to catch his breath before Luke was kissing him again and, this time, Luke punctuated the kiss by sliding his leg up between Percy’s thighs, pressing up experimentally against the younger man. Percy let out a strangled moan against Luke’s lips, back arching up so that he pressed into Luke._

_“Quick learner,” Luke noted, breaking the kiss with a smirk on his lips. Percy sucked in a breath beneath him, letting his tongue sweep over his lip, and Luke’s eyes followed the movement. “Very good, Percy.”_

_Luke released Percy from his hold and shifted down, easily unbuckling the leather armor that protected the young prince’s chest during their spars. Once the armor was pulled away, Luke’s hands were tugging Percy’s shirt untucked and slipping underneath the fabric to slide up Percy’s stomach. Oh, Percy was sure of two things as his body reacted to Luke’s ministrations - the first, that this was all sorts of improper and the second being that he didn’t care if it was improper or not; he liked it and it felt good._

_Luke’s hands were sliding lower now, pausing at the fastenings of the trousers Percy wore. “Luke!”_

_“Shh. Just part of the lesson, Percy. Relax.”_

_Percy held his breath for a moment as Luke unfastened his trousers and tugged them down over his hips, exposing him to the air. And as Luke lowered his head, Percy’s hands fell to the ground below him, nails digging tiny trenches into the soil._

A loud rapping at the door broke through the indulgent fantasy that Percy had allowed himself to slip into after relaxing in the bath. Percy sat upright in the water, trying to force down the blush that was threatening to redden his entire face. “Yes?”

The door opened and one of the servants stepped in, giving a bow. “My Prince, your mother wished me to inform you that Master Pygmalion’s Apprentice is ready for you.

Percy gave a nod. “Thank you. I will join her shortly.”

The servant gave another bow. “Do you wish me to assist you?”

Percy shook his head. Some of the servants were still surprised that the Crown Prince would rather do things on his own - Percy dressed himself, made his own bed, and many other things that the servants normally did for Triton, who liked to be pampered and served. It was something he’d picked up from his mother, who was also hands on and felt guilty for making servants do what she herself could. Most of the time, the only things Percy asked the servants for help with would be the more complicated task of preparing for events, where he needed help dressing.

“Meet me in my chambers in five minutes to help with my formal clothes, otherwise, you’re dismissed.”

The servant nodded and stepped back out of the wash room, leaving Percy to pick up his towel from the rack it hung on and step out of the bath. More servants would come by later to drain the bath and clean the wash room, but in the mean time, Percy dried himself off and donned the simple robe the last servant had left for him.

As he dried himself, he reflected on the fantasy he’d had in the bath and decided he really needed to do something about his thoughts about Luke. It wasn’t proper for a prince to be having this kind of fantasy about a guardsman, after all.

* * * * *

“Will you _please_ stop moving?”

Percy dropped his hand from his collar, where he’d been attempting to loosen it. He really didn’t like the formal attire he had to wear for this. It was tight, it was hot, and it was uncomfortable, all still collars and heavy cloth. There were a handful of medals pinned to his jacket, mostly decorative medals of his station. His hair was brushed neatly, his boots shined, all metal buckles and buttons polished to a shine.

Normally, all this prim and proper presentation would be reserved for the most important happenings, like a couple of summers ago, when King Hades of Chthonius had sent his Queen and children to Asphaleios for a month-long visit. Percy and Triton had both had to put on their formal, ceremonial attire to welcome their relatives - though both of them had been quick to change into something more comfortable after the pomp and circumstance of their arrival.

Percy would also have to wear these - or similar trimmings, since he was still growing - for his coronation when he officially took the throne. He didn’t particularly look forward to it. He hated wearing these clothes.

His mother had insisted that Percy wear his formal clothes for the painting he was now sitting for. Rachel had snickered at him when he’d first come into the room she’d picked out for her task, then cooed an apology for Percy’s lack of comfort before pushing him into position. She teased him about how princely he looked - as compared to the day they’d met in Erganê, when eleven-year-old Percy had been playing in the woods with Annabeth and a couple of her siblings.

“Remember that?” Rachel had asked. “I was sitting with my easel, trying to paint the creek, and you were skulking about with a stick as your sword. I blew my nose and you jumped like cat who’d had their tail stepped on and nearly smacked me with that dumb stick!”

Percy had remembered. It was hard to forget Rachel and the first words she’d said to him - “Do you always try to kill people when they blow their nose?!”

Rachel hadn’t known then that Percy was a visiting prince from Asphaleios, though she found out soon enough. Percy didn’t like to point out that he was a prince, but Malcolm hadn’t had the same reservation when he’d told Rachel who Percy was. Rachel had countered Malcolm’s claim that commoners, no matter how rich their parents might be, should treat the prince with respect with her own claim that Percy was just a kid like her and she’d treat him the same she would any other kid.

Rachel stuck to her claim, always treating Percy casually, like he was just a regular person, not a prince. Amphitrite, though she didn’t like Percy much, did not like how casual Rachel was with him, claiming - much like Malcolm - that Rachel should pay Percy the proper respect as Crown Prince. On the other hand, Sally had always liked Rachel; she claimed that Rachel reminded her of herself. She’d always been the same with Poseidon, treating the young King as a person as he courted her, and she said it was part of why Poseidon was so smitten with her.

Percy could see his mother’s point. The way Rachel always treated him like a friend was so refreshing in comparison to how most people would be so stiff and formal around him, always bowing and repeating his title, never looking him in the eye. Rachel always looked at Percy, smiled at him, laughed with him, and called him ‘Percy’ with no title attached. Being around Rachel, Percy could be himself, relaxed and friendly; he wasn’t trying to uphold his image as the prince around her.

“I know you’re uncomfortable, Percy,” Rachel said, brushing her hair back from her face as she sketched Percy onto her canvas. They’d been at this for an hour, including the time spent making sure everything was set up just right for the painting. “But I need you to hold still so I can finish the sketch, then we can take a break.”

“Really?” Percy thought a break sounded really good. He could take off his jacket and go out onto the balcony for a while, get a good breath of fresh air. “That would be great.”

“Tell me about it. I need to stretch and get something to drink. You’re a difficult subject, Percy.”

“I’ve always been difficult,” Percy pointed out.

Rachel gave a laugh, so easy and genuine. “That’s true!”

“So how long do you think this painting will take?” Percy asked. Sally had suggested that it would take a few days, but he was hoping it wouldn’t take that long.

“Don’t rush an artist, Percy. You’ll end up with a mess on a canvas.” Rachel blew her bangs from her eyes and added a few more lines to her sketch. “If I can keep up this pace, I can get about half of the base painting done by this evening. Over all, I think we’ll be finished tomorrow night and I can do the details on my own. But that’s still two days of you sitting there for hours on end.”

“I’m gonna lose all feeling in my legs.”

“Oh, don’t be a baby,” Rachel told him, rolling her eyes. “You’re not going to lose all feeling in your legs. _Stop squirming_!”

Percy ceased his movements. The seat he was half-sitting on was almost as uncomfortable as his clothes and he had to occasionally move to attempt to get comfortable. His back was going to be sore on top of everything else at this rate.

“So what have you been doing lately?” Rachel asked as she returned to her work. “You haven’t been sending letters as often as usual. Busy with the upcoming ball?”

“I’m taking lessons from Luke,” Percy replied.

“Dancing lessons?”

Percy wrinkled his nose. “Luke, the captain of the guard, Rachel. What would he be doing teaching me to dance?”

“I hope _someone_ is giving you dancing lessons,” Rachel muttered. “You’ll be expected to dance with the girls at the ball for your birthday. Myself included, of course. If you think you’re getting out of dancing with me - ”

“I hope someone is giving _you_ dancing lessons,” Percy teased.

“Kayla’s taught me how.” Rachel stuck her tongue out at Percy.

Rachel’s Master, an artist by the name of Pygmalion, had two painting Apprentices - Rachel and Kayla. Kayla, a young woman from Epikourios, was in another room with Triton at the moment, having either an easier time or a harder time with the other prince; Triton wasn’t quite the squirmer that Percy was, able to hold still and be patient, but he was more of a stickler for propriety between commoner and royalty. No doubt Kayla could not be as friendly with Triton as Rachel was with Percy.

“I’ll save you a dance, I promise,” Percy told Rachel. He wasn’t the greatest dancer, but he could follow the steps of some of the latest dances that his instructors had taught him. Rachel would have to be satisfied with what he knew. “I can’t promise to sweep you off your feet with my dancing, but I will dance with you.”

“Maybe I’ll be the one sweeping _you_ off your feet.”

“I wouldn’t put it past you.”

Rachel gave a laugh and returned to her sketch. For a few minutes, silence fell between the two friends as Rachel worked. Percy held still as well as he could, trying to resist the urge to fiddle with his collar or push up his sleeves. Rachel would just yell at him again.

Finally, Rachel set down her charcoal and brushed her hands off on her paint-stained smock before standing up. “Alright, Percy. Break time!”

“Thank Thalassa.” Percy slid off his seat and stretched, arms rising as high as the tight sleeves of his jacket allowed. He quickly unbuttoned it and peeled it off. He wore a simple shirt underneath it that was much more comfortable and airy than the jacket. Without the jacket, he was much cooler and could breath again. He slung the jacket over the back of the chair and gestured to the balcony. “Let’s break out there. I’ll call for a servant to bring us something to drink.”

Rachel nodded. “Sounds good!”

It wasn’t long before the two of them were lounging on the balcony, both of them leaning against the baluster with a goblet of cool water brought by one of the servants. The breeze coming in from the sea was cool on their skin and salty on their tongues as the summer sun shone above them. Rachel had her eyes closed as she just took in the surroundings. She hadn’t grown up around the sea as Percy had; where the sea breeze and sun were so ingrained into Percy’s surroundings, it was a rare special treat for Rachel to have that sweet salt air and cool wind. Epikourios, her home, was a landlocked city in Ceraunius and Erganê, though it was close to the sea, wasn’t close enough for the sea breeze to reach the citizens.

“So what else have you been up to?” Rachel asked. She took a deep breath, enjoying the salty scent of the ocean wind, before opening her eyes and turning to Percy. “Your mom mentioned you and Tyson went out for a ride the other day. Tell me about it.”

“Well, we ended up riding along the river border,” Percy replied. He took a drink of his water, letting it cool his body from the inside. “We ended up running into Thalia. And one of her friends, Zoe.”

Rachel gave a snort. “Friends. Yeah. Not from what I’ve heard.”

Percy arched a brow. “What do you mean?”

“Gossip in Erganê,” Rachel explained, giving a dismissive wave of her hand. “It’s no secret that Princess Thalia enjoys the company of women and Zoe seems to be her current favorite.”

“Oh.” Percy had known that Thalia liked women - she’d written to him about girls before, knowing she could tell him without being judged.

_Unlike with Mother._ Thalia had written a few years ago. _I can’t talk to Jason about it, either. I know he loves me and would support me, but it would be awkward to talk to my brother, of all people, about how I like girls more than I like boys._

As though writing to Percy was less awkward? Perhaps it wasn’t as awkward as it would be with Jason; Thalia and Percy only wrote to each other. Running into her the other day was a stroke of luck. They simply didn’t see each other often enough for anything to be awkward. He hadn’t even thought about it when they’d talked. Thalia and Zoe hadn’t so much as even hinted at the idea that they were more than friends.

“So what happened when you met up with Thalia?” Rachel prompted, hoping for something more to talk about while they took their break.

“We sat around drinking some wine and talking about things. Zoe mentioned some rumors from Thrace. Thalia just waved it off, but the rumors are apparently about Kronos.”

“Kronos? But that’s imposs - “

“I know,” Percy cut her off. He heaved a sigh and turned to look at Rachel, ready to say that Thalia had said the same thing. As he turned, though, he realized that Rachel hadn’t stopped talking because he cut her off. “Rachel!”

Rachel was bent over, hands buried in her bright red curls. Percy had never actually seen her like this, but knew what was going on. One of the girl’s many gifts was the incredibly rare gift of prophecy. Few knew of the gift, Percy only knowing because she’d told him, because a girl who could prophecize was often in danger of being kidnapped, held against her will as a personal prophet to those who would use her gift for their benefit. The only other one in the palace who knew of her gift was Kayla, who acted as Rachel’s attendant in addition to being a fellow Apprentice.

As Rachel righted herself, Percy could sense a change in the girl. Rachel had always had green eyes, brighter and more wilder than Percy’s, but when she opened her eyes now, they were pale, almost ghostly, a shocking glow to them that struck a sense of doom in Percy’s chest. When she spoke, her voice sounded like it echoed, another, more ancient voice joining hers to spill the fateful verse that would later haunt Percy.

 

_Time has turned now against the triad kings,_  
 _The queens will be taken on the great crow’s wings;_  
 _The sly king will rise to re-take his throne  
_ _And kingdoms will bow to the one overthrown._

 

Percy was so caught in what Rachel was saying that he didn’t hear the door open on the other side of the room.He vaguely heard Kayla calling for Rachel, asking something about a brush, then, moments later, the other painter stepped onto the balcony, recognizing the situation and quickly pulling a folded piece of parchment out of the pocket of her apron. Rachel continued to prophecize as Kayla scrambled to write everything down with a piece of charcoal.

 

_You shall be betrayed by one who calls you a friend,_   
_And the dawn’s song will come, like night, to an end;_   
_The thief’s flight will mark the beginning of your path,  
_ _And a broken promise shall invoke the ghost king’s wrath._

_The children of earth, sea, and sky must work together as one  
_ _To defeat the sky-cutter before the rise of the black sun._

 

Prophecy complete, Rachel gave a sigh, closing her eyes. A moment later, Percy rushed forward to catch her as she started to topple. Kayla finished scribbling down the prophecy as she’d heard it, then helped Percy carry Rachel back inside and to a chair.

“What did I miss?” Kayla asked, a serious look on her face. “I know I came in late, did she say anything before I came in?”

Percy nodded and repeated the first part of Rachel’s prophecy as he set Rachel down on one of the seats in the room. The seat was large enough that Rachel could lay down to rest off the prophecy and she promptly did so, curling up on her side. Kayla, once she had finished writing the whole prophecy down, carefully folded the parchment up again and stepped closer to Percy.

“Your Highness, keep this safe,” she told Percy, putting the folded parchment into Percy’s hands. “You and I are the only ones who know this prophecy right now. Rachel never remembers what she says in this state.”

Percy held the parchment in his hands. It felt heavy in his hands, though he knew it was only charcoal on paper. He imagined it like a heavy metalsmith’s anvil, like the weight of the prophecy loomed over him, ready to crush him. He didn’t doubt that Rachel’s words were directed to him, that the prophecy was about him, at least in part; the line about betrayal had him worried, almost more than the rest of it, because it seemed to be particularly addressed to him.

“What do I do about this?” Percy asked Kayla. He had no idea what to do now that he was faced with a prophecy, especially one that seemed as heavy as this one. “She said something about the kings. Do you think I should tell someone about this?”

Kayla hesitated. “Your Highness, I’m only a painter’s Apprentice. I don’t think I’m fit to advise you.”

“You said it yourself that you’re the only other one who knows about this,” Percy pointed out. “I think that more than qualifies you to advise me on this.”

Kayla still didn’t look convinced that she was the right person to give the Crown Prince advice on such a dire matter, but she gave a small nod. “It...It would be my suggestion that you write a letter to your father,” she told him. “Send it out straight away with a messenger bird. Explain to him what happened here and the part of the prophecy that may involve him. The rest of it, keep secret until your father returns to Asphaleios. I believe it’s best to keep this from getting out.”

Percy agreed, truth be told. He wished he hadn’t heard the prophecy, but there wasn’t much he could do about that. It wasn’t like he could turn back time and avoid the prophecy. What he could do now was what Kayla suggested; write a letter to his father and pray to Thalassa to send Poseidon back to Aegaeon at full speed. This was bigger than Percy, bigger than what he could handle. He needed his father’s help.

“Thank you, Kayla,” Percy told the young painter. He smiled at her. “I appreciate it. You should return to Triton before he throws a fit. I’ll make sure Rachel’s taken care of in the mean time.”

Kayla gave a nod. “Thank you, Your Highness.”

She looked down at Rachel, a soft look of concern on her face. She touched her fingers to her friend’s temple, murmured a small prayer to Hemera, the goddess of day, to bless Rachel and give her the day’s energy to help her recover. Having done that, she went over to Rachel’s supplies and pulled out a brush, as was her original reason for coming, then left the room, leaving Percy to call for a servant to help tend to Rachel.

With the portrait sitting cancelled now because of Rachel’s post-prophecy exhaustion, Percy returned to his chambers once his friend was being taken care of and changed out of his stiff, uncomfortable formal clothes and into simple livery for the rest of the day. Keeping Kayla’s advice in mind, he sat at his desk and pulled out parchment and quill, writing a letter to his father. He wasn’t sure what to put into the letter, wanting to keep it short and to the point without causing panic.

After finishing the letter to his father, Percy considered writing a letter to Annabeth to let her know what was going on. She was his best friend, after all, and there was little that he kept secret from her. Considering the importance of a prophecy, he felt he should tell her about it, get her insight on it.

_“You shall be betrayed by one who calls you a friend.”_

The line of the prophecy nagged at Percy, making him hesitant to write to Annabeth. It was such a powerful line, one that cut Percy to the heart. He didn’t think Annabeth would ever betray him. They’d been friends for so long, it seemed impossible to believe that his best friend would betray him, but the prophecy had been so vague. What if it _was_ Annabeth?

Percy decided not to write to Annabeth. He rolled the letter to his father into a scroll and slipped it into his pocket as he stood to head for the aviary. He stopped a moment later and looked down at the unfolded parchment with the prophecy scrawled across it. It needed to be put in a safe place, hidden away from prying eyes until Poseidon returned to the palace. Percy picked it up and folded it back up again, then moved over to his bookshelf. Grabbing a heavy leather-bound book, Percy opened it and placed the prophecy between the pages, closing the book on it and putting the book back on the shelf.

Until Poseidon came back, the prophecy would remain out of sight and out of mind.

  



End file.
